Rejects Corner
old men
grown old before calling time
sit at the end of the bar
diamonds clutched in fists
poured down throats
washed away by gutters
towards midnight rain
propped up by high-heeled wives
they wave
wave to all that still see
stagger down taxi ranks
spattering doors with wisdom pearls
silenced in streets
they sail, tied to masts
of broken beer glasses
carried away by dreams of girls
crying now
clutching on to sinking hands
it all comes out
she loves me - she loves me not
their words trodden in dirt
forgotten, unpronounceable
the tune that was never sung
words she never listened to.
